I’ve spent the last few days studying my daily smoking patterns and have boiled all 15 of my cigarettes down to the 5 that I need most.
First thing in the morning. They say the tell-tale sign that you’re a nictone addict is when you need to smoke within 30 minutes after waking up. That’s me, baby!
After dinner. I don’t know a smoker who doesn’t NEED to have a cigarette after a meal. Extensive research conducted by Johns Hopkins University has shown that small amounts of nicotine do in fact aid digestion. I totally made that up.
After lunch. This cigarette is just as crucial as the previous one, but I think it might be 0.000001% easier to let go of simply because I have a better chance of occupying myself at work—where lunch takes place five days a week. Yes, I’m actually a normal person.
Goodnight smoke. This one helps put my mind at ease before I hit the covers every night. I get antsy if I don’t have it and start dreaming about the Terrible Tobacco Beast, my imaginary demon-friend who convinces me that a hot chick dies each time I refuse a cigarette.
On the way home from work. Shades on, music blasting, wind in my face… and cigarette in hand. That’s paradise.
For the first 20 days, I’m going to allow myself a sixth “wildcard” cigarette, which I can have at any time. Then I go down to the 5 smokes listed above. Every 20 days or so, I cut another one. Just to be clear, I am not allowed to have make-up cigarettes! Any smoke that is not one of the ”scheduled” smokes counts as a fuck up.
And just to add a slight twist. At the end of every month, I’ll add up all the fuck ups I had and donate to charity at established rates. The penalty starts off at $2 per fuck up in the first month and increases by $1 per month to make sure the stakes get higher. Pressuurrrreeee!!! That’s pretty much the only reason uber-duber champions like me are even alive.
I’ve created a Cigarette Log that will help me keep track of all the cigarettes I smoke. If all goes well, I’ll be cigarette free on January 1, 2009. On that day, I want to be able to say, “Happy New Year, bitches. Welcome to the new me.”